Tag Archives: N

Grand Budapest Hotel

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N and I had ourselves a nice date night consisting of dinner and a movie this past Saturday and we went to see Grand Budapest Hotel. We’re big Wes Anderson fans (N got me into his movies when he forced me to see The Life Aquatic and I ended up liking it far more than expected) and we’d heard good things about this one, so we were really excited.

We also smuggled wine juice boxes into the theater which may or may not have had an effect on our excitement level.

Anyway, we loved it. It was hilarious and, of course, completely beautiful. The colors! Oh Wes, you know how the internet feels about your color schemes. This movie is suddenly making all those pink tiled bathrooms we keep seeing on our house hunt look really exquisite. I highly recommend this one, and I hate going to the movies.

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Winter Getaway

In lieu of gifts this year, N and I decided to take a little winter trip. He was on vacation the week before Christmas, and I was on vacation the week of Christmas, so I just extended my vacation a little bit and took Wednesday through Friday of the week before Christmas off, too. A week and a half vacation? Don’t mind if I do!

After much discussion and stress and Groupon-induced mental breakdowns, we ended up going to the Mount Washington Hotel in New Hampshire. It’s just outside of Jackson/North Conway, and it is absolutely GORGEOUS. We got a good deal on it, too. Right before school vacation and before high winter season started.

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I love packing. It’s one of my many odd quirks. But it turns out I haaaate packing for cold-weather trips. So many layers! Everything is so bulky! One night away turned out in me needing a huge bag. It’s ridiculous. Winter is completely outside of my comfort zone. Anyway, I did the best I could, and we left Wednesday morning.

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We drove up through the mountains and were greeted with a nice view of our hotel. I mean, come on. I wish I got a better picture. It’s nestled in the perfect spot. The hotel was built in 1902? I think? In the very early 1900s anyway. It’s never been updated, only restored, so basically it’s my dream hotel. I love old buildings, you guys. I love them. The second I walked in I knew I would love it.

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And just to add to my obsession, the place was decked out flawlessly for Christmas. Like, that is the lobby you guys. It looks like the Titanic or something. There was also a giant fireplace with a moose head over it that I failed to get a picture of. One night was not enough time for me to fully explore and take pictures. Plus N didn’t seem interested (because he’s some kind of tyrannical heathen, obviously). Clearly this means I must go back.

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We checked in (there was NO ONE there, the hotel was so quiet when we checked in) and an elevator man brought us up to our room. Because the elevator was super old school and the door had to be opened and closed by hand. No joke.  Oh, and our room got upgraded. So that was a sweet bonus.

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Our room looked right out on Mount Washington. My phone kept focusing on the window screen which was obnoxious. Actually, now that I think about it, I’m surprised the windows even had screens. I wouldn’t think they would open. I guess in 1902 no one worried about people leaping to their deaths from hotel windows?

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Anyway, we settled in and I busted out our sweet beer koozies I got us at Target. THEY ARE SWEATERS. FOR BEER. I cannot even.

Then we napped and watched TV because we were on vacation and that’s what one is supposed to do.

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Once I reached the point of severe hanger we headed into Conway for dinner and drinks. We had a unplanned progressive dinner where we had drinks and apps at one place, dinner at another, and then headed back to the hotel for dessert and after dinner drinks. With a bit of shopping thrown in for good measure.

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We were told we could just sit in the lobby and someone would serve us. Well alright then! Someone was already in front of the fireplace, damn them, so we settled in on another sofa and had ourselves a brownie sundae.

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Thursday we woke up, checked out of the hotel (see, such a short stay!) and hunted down some breakfast. N is very familiar with the area because he is a snowboard freak, so he chose all our food locations. He did okay. I was underwhelmed with the pancakes. In his defense, he claimed he’d never tried them.

Bless his heart I love that boy to bits, but he could talk about mountains FOREVER and I’m like “yeah, another mountain, I saw one already today.” I suppose I can wax poetic about the beach for hours on end though, so I guess we’re squaresies.

After some scenic driving (including a drive through a covered bridge!) we headed over to do some cross country skiing. We headed into the ski rental place where this exchange happened:

Rental Lady: Okay, we have wider skis for beginners that will keep you from going too fast and be a bit easier to maneuver, or we have narrow skis for experienced skiers or athletic types. Have you been before?

Me: I’ve done this a bunch of times, but he’s never been.

N: Yeah, but I snowboard like, fifty times a season, so…

Rental Lady and I exchange a look.

Me: Okay, just give us the athletic ones, then.

She showed us how to put on the puts and snap into the skis and we headed out. I got in front (it was groomed trails, you literally just stick your skis in the groove and shuffle-slide along) and N is behind me. Within 30 seconds he is telling me I am “sprinting” and asking if I mean “to go that fast”. I wasn’t even trying. I am just THAT good. He fell twice. I fell zero. #winning

I finally found a winter activity I am better at! He was a good sport about it and didn’t throw any fits like I normally do.

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After that we headed towards home, and then went out for a lovely dinner to round out our trip. I’d rather have a one-night getaway than a material gift any day.

 

 

 

 

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Block Island | September 2013

Why yes, this post SHOULD have gone up at least a month ago. Oopsie. Anyway, N and I went down to visit his grandmother during the final days of my Funemployment. She lives in Narragansett, RI and her house is definitely one of my very favorite places. It reminds me a little bit of the house my grandparents used to have on Cape Cod, and that Cape Cod house was my mostest favorite place in the world.

N’s grandmother’s house is right behind the parking lot for Narragansett beach and you can see the ocean from her back deck. It’s beautiful.

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We got down there on a Thursday night and hung out with Nana, having cocktails and cheese and crackers and watching the moonrise.

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Please excuse the grainy zoomed-in iPhone photo.

Once Nana was done forcing drinks and snacks down our throats (seriously, you can’t say no to a grandmother, you just can’t), we headed out for snacks and drinks and to play a little Keno, typical of us. But since occasionally N can be super adorable, he played our birthdays and our anniversary, swoon.

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We didn’t win.

The next morning, N made us breakfast and  we decided to take the ferry out from Point Judith and go to Block Island. We’d been years ago, and I’ve wanted to go back ever since. It’s a beautiful island off the coast of Rhode Island with beaches and lighthouses and most importantly, scooters. All I wanted to do was rent a scooter and practice scooting. N thinks I should learn how to ride a motorcycle, but I am a chicken. So I thought riding a scooter on my own would be good practice. That’s probably a stretch, but, baby steps. We wanted to take his bike over with us, but the ferry wasn’t taking anymore motorcycles. N was not pleased.

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It was a beautiful fall day. We got off the ferry, rented a scooter (we would have each gotten one, but they are pretty dang expensive and like I said, I was Funemployed at the time and not too into spending frivolously), and headed off to explore the island. I decided to let N drive us around for a bit before I took my turn (I was scurred) so we went to find Mohegan Bluffs.

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We climbed down all the stairs (we counted them, but I can’t remember how many there are, only that N won the guess bet) to the beach below. It was very rocky and people had built little castles and towers out of the rocks. Seriously, so pretty. Then we got back to scootin’.

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We stopped to get some snacks and a beer and scooted off to find a little nature trail so we could wander around and relax for a bit. We pulled the scooter over into what looked like a secluded little area, only to have an older couple immediately pull up behind us on bicycles and start to follow us. Hello! Can we get a little privacy? There are 80 bajillion other little trails to walk and they had to pick this one? Ugh. Anyway, we walked to the end of the trail which basically just ended at a little inlet and we opened our beer like the classy folks we are and hung out for a bit. The other couple finally took the hint and turned back.

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Then, since N drank most of the beer, it was my turn to helm the scooter. And I did it! N said he was so proud of me, even though I legit didn’t go over 20mph, haha.

Behold! Evidence!

 

Watching these it is clear how comically slow I was going. Whatever, next stop, motorcycle (maybe).

Once our time on the scooter was up, we headed back into town for an early dinner and to catch the ferry back to Point Judith. We then spent Friday night having drinks with Nana and watching Wheel of Fortune and Jeopardy. Solid Friday, right there. We got a late start home (we didn’t want to miss Jeopardy) and I was snuggled in my bed by 10:30. It was a glorious getaway and exactly what I needed with all that stressful Funemployment crap going on. Until next time, Block Island!

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Conversations with N: Past & Present

[Background: We were reminiscing about our teenage selves and the ridiculous crap we used to do. I will not go into specifics here because it literally makes me cringe with embarrassment to remember what asses we were. Teenagers are the worst.]

K: My 27-year-old self would probably be so annoyed with the teenage me if I ever went back in time and met her.

N: My 27-year-old self is annoyed by your 27-year-old self all the time. Maybe by the time you hit 30 you’ll be cool.

K: [hits N on the arm and screeches that he’s a jerk]

N: But I am such a funny jerk!

Now that I’m typing this I’m wondering what my 17-year-old self would think of the 27-year-old me. I wonder if she’d be disappointed? She probably would be, since I know my teenage self thought 27 was so OLD and SURELY I’d have it all figured out by now. Life never does turn out quite the way we expect it to.

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The Beard, Or How I Ruined My Relationship With A Seemingly Innocent Comment

This past fall I was not-so-patiently waiting for an engagement ring from my beloved N. We’d been together for eleven years. E-L-E-V-E-N Y-E-A-R-S. I do not think I was being presumptuous in thinking I maybe deserved a little more commitment after all that.

One perfectly normal day in early October I was sitting on the couch with N, lazily watching TV and stroking his puffy beard.

I was never very fond of the puffy beard. he’s had it for years and I have been mourning the loss of his naked, youthful face ever since. But he was insistent and wouldn’t get rid of it.

So on this particular, normal, run of the mill October day as I was stroking it and letting my mind wander, my mouth decided to verbalize what was happening in my brain.

I hate when this happens.

I said “N, for our wedding you cannot have this beard. I just decided.”

He said nothing.

I said, “We are having a wedding, right?”

All was quiet.

“N? Hello?”

“I don’t think I want to get married,” he said.

Two weeks later he moved out.

This past Wednesday, when he came over to hang out and watch the first Bruins playoff game, I opened the door and didn’t recognize him. The beard was gone.

“I can’t grow a proper playoff beard if I already have one to begin with. I had to start fresh.” Well, duh.

He looked SO YOUNG. His face was baby-butt smooth and faintly paler where the beard had been. I giggled like a school girl. He looked so weird.

After staring at his bare face all night I came to the conclusion that I liked him better WITH the beard.

Go figure.

If only I’d kept my mouth shut on that perfect fine day back in October, maybe things would have turned out differently. (Unlikely, but still, one has to wonder).

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Conversations with N: Hipsters

[Background]: N has taken to wearing a lot of beanies and flannel and smoking fancy cigarettes so I’ve been teasing him that he’s turning into a hipster. Last night I put on a chunky cardigan to go out and he said I looked like I was “going to a 50s doo-wop”.

K: Where should we go for dinner?

N: I don’t know. Not a chain restaurant, I’m not feeling that type of thing.

K: Me either, I’m so over chain restaurants. [pause] Does that make us both hipsters?

N: Yes, and so does that cardigan you have on.

Touche.

 

 

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